i'm the one who should be sorry
by dancing on my own with a song
Summary: "Tell Sakura, I am sorry." Sasuke puffed away. Naruto looked broken. "I'm the one who should be sorry." Where Naruto has more to feel sorry for. narusaku affair fic. lemon & angst.


_an –_ i thought of this after watching the recent episode. Why I love fanfiction. We can do a lot of fun things with the Sasuke-Naruto scene. Honestly just a reason to write pointless smut & angst. NaruSaku & adultery. Don't like, don't read.

 _disclaimer -_ i don't own naruto.

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 **i'm the one who should be sorry.**

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 _"Tell Sakura I am sorry."_

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Naruto was exhausted.

"Sakura-chan," he said her name with such a painful undertone, Sakura's muscles tensed up. It was still late into the night, and Sakura already put Sarada to sleep.

She already knew what Naruto was going to say. The look in his eyes said it all.

She answered his candor with a lie - a smile, the wrinkles by her eyes and the creases on her forehead saying it all.

Naruto's eyes looked as blue as the sea, but they also revealed questions and reluctance - too many times they were in this position, too many times he was forced to break her heart as the messenger for another.

It hurt so much more, because he was never the one to break her heart, he couldn't even fathom doing such a thing to her, being the one to make her cry, make her wait, leave her again.

"Naruto... it's fine." He was the only one who could easily see through her lies, who could read her better than anyone else.

She pushed herself up, leaning into him and on her tip-toes. Her lips met his, and he could taste the anguish, the need, the urgency, the heartache. Her fingers roamed, searching for warmth, for his fingers that brought her comfort countless times in the past. She gripped his hand, squeezing too tight, but he didn't mind. He brought his other hand to the small of her back, pulling her towards his chest.

In their embrace, they questioned their intentions, questioned what would surely take place once again. But their decision was already made from the moment he knocked on her door with his downcast eyes and waiting to deliver a message she couldn't bare to hear again.

He was the one who pulled away, his eyes watching her pained expression, before he pushed her into her home, closing the door behind him. Finally, darkness surrounded them, where he could feel where he wanted to feel, and kiss where he wanted to kiss.

No words were necessary.

Their steps were light, quiet. She silently took his hand again, bringing him into her space, into her bedroom. She made sure things were silent, they didn't make too much noise - Sarada was sleeping but she needed him. She led him upstairs.

It was only when the privacy of the darkness surrounded them fully, where the night consumed them that they succumbed fully to their desires, to their hate and pain.

He would undress her, kissing her as her shirt gets lifted up.

Naruto hated himself for this, for picking her petite body up and bringing their pelvises together. He hated himself for selfishly placing his greedy lips all over her supple skin, for tracing her jugular with his tongue, before suckling and marking the skin of the woman that did not belong to him. He hated himself for how easy the tension in his heart can succumb to the friction between the fabric of his pants.

He would bring her to her bed, her body at the edge, his tongue lining her clavicle, before his lips hovered against her most sensitive spot on her neck, soon, sucking, and marking her as his, leaving red blemishes and tainting her body, even when it was a lie. He didn't care, however, growling in the softness of her skin, sending vibrations down her spine to the point her back arched with eagerness. He understood every part of her body by this point, knowing exactly what to do to make her move how he wanted. His arms wrapped around her torso, unclasping her bra and letting her breast come to view for his concentrated eyes.

He gave attention to them soon after, undressing and revealing all she had to bare to him, all she could. His tongue lapped at her nipple, making her moan and for her fingernails to dig into his scalp, her fingers brushing through his blonde, spiky hair. He would do whatever he pleased with his tongue, and Sakura would let him, encourage him, plead for him to touch her in places he was forbidden to touch, his hands in places only another had been. But in that moment, that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered to her was how electrifying it felt when he would pinch and pull her hardened nipples, sending jolts within her.

He knew to move lower, when she would push his head away from her breast, and towards her nether regions. He tugged her white pants down with him, his eyes darting to the ivory skin of her thighs, as though it would be the last time - it could always be the last time, he has to remind himself. She wanted him to help her feel, feel something other than sadness - something pleasurable, but rough, a hard grip but a soft caress.

His head rested between her thighs. His breath lingered against her panties, before they pressed against her, before her inner walls twitched with need, her muscles jolting on its own and pushing her lower self against his face. She moved her underwear aside, and he feast his eyes over her womanhood, bare and his to take in. He did just that, sucking and licking, his tongue tasting her desire, her wetness. The view, of her legs spread before him was more tempting than anything he's seen before. The heat she radiated was immense, but it only left him wanting more, his cold breath tickling her at certain points during his ministration.

The way she said his name, was more than enough to make him go crazy with lust.

His tongue lapped at her sex like a starving child, hungry for all of her. He was insatiable, as though nothing could satisfy him but her alone. This left a warm feeling - a heat that continued to throb in her nether regions and stomach. It sent her over a sharp edge.

"Naruto." Her husky breath was consumed by pleasure, desperately hoping he would continue until her heart pounded against her breast, until her toes twitched and his lips mended her shaking folds with light kisses as waves of pleasure continued, peaking the sensations that climbed up her body before dying down.

He would linger, his nose sending tendrils and tingles through her nerves. His breathing was deep, wanting to catch his breath.

There were times her eyes would close shut, her thighs would try to close too, but he would growl before he yanked her underwear away. He could smell her need.

At this point, in a single breath, she couldn't stop him from removing his own robes, from presenting her his need, his dick. She saw exactly what she did to him, what she can cause. It was at that point he would grab a hold of her taut ass with aggression, practically dragging her to the edge of the bed and leaving imprints of spread fingers on each cheek, before he let her feel his need, his member against the mold of her sex. She enjoyed it, if her lewd squeaks and groans weren't enough of an indication. Her fingers wandered south, to his erection and felt it in her hand, hot and surging with hot blood and smooth skin. This stimulated him more, his cock moving against her own heated sex.

He towered over her, his arms on either side of her, watching her and forcing her to look at who was doing this to her, who was making her feel this way - such promiscuous, lewd thoughts, that made her want to stay there in his embrace as long as it took, to take the pain away, to remove her agony.

She tried to turn away from him when he brought his member into her and his deep blue eyes pierced through being and soul, but he selfishly refused her request, the palm of his hands pressed against her spread inner thighs. He demanded her attention, because in these moments, he didn't care if she belonged to someone else, him. Tonight, he was hers, and everything she was, her mind, body, and soul - all his.

When his mushroom tip found her opening, she bit back a moan. They've been in this position far too many times to worry about slowing into their pace.

He moved in tandem with her, but his movements were harder than hers, Sakura desperately telling him to keep going - faster, harder, harder till her walls constricted and her thighs felt numb; until she could feel something other than the empty void in her heart, until she can smile again and be able to fool the world.

His rough thrusts bruised but healed, made her mind erratic but eased her aching heart; she was excited but disgusted in herself for enjoying the way this other man felt against the roof of her inner walls, making her jerk in need and excitement.

He enjoyed looking down to where their sexes collided, enjoying the way his member spread her swollen labia. His fingers squeezed her hips bringing her ass up and connecting further, as deep as possible in a way to reach her in unimaginable ways.

This time, he didn't warn her (he didn't have to), but she could tell by the desperation in his squinted eyes or face that was addicted to this feeling, by his erratic plunges into her vagina. It felt too good to stop, so good she wanted more, she didn't want this to end, she wanted him to keep going to make time stop and quicken at the same time. So she would simply buck her hips meeting in a clash of frustration and desire. At that point, his two fingers would make tiny circles around her swollen nub, making her mewl and groan with shaky legs. This sent tingles running up her stomach, back, and legs, which wrapped around his hips, wanting him to keep filling her, keep fucking her through her growing waves of an orgasm, Naruto following right after.

He caught his breath, his chest rising and falling at rapid speeds, unable to contain his pleasure or the light-headed feeling his release caused. She cried, her arms soon wrapping around him and letting his warmth engulf her and make her feel better and terrible all in a single breath. She laid languid over his body. He wished he could give her all his love during times like this, but he couldn't, not anymore. And he knew she couldn't, either. His eyes closed, wondering if they stayed in this position long enough, if her body and soul could imprint over his. He let her lay atop of him, his arms soon wrapping around her and pressing her breast against his chest and enjoying the softness of her body, the smell of her hair, the taste of her skin...

"What did he tell you to tell me?" she finally asked, his strong arms giving her the courage to speak up.

"He said he's sorry," he rasped, his voice guilty and strained. She didn't respond, she just nodded in his chest, nuzzling deeper into it. Her fingers trailed down, from his bicep to his own fingers, intertwining and squeezing, before she began to shake. He felt hot under her warm breath and fresh tears against his heart.

As she traced the lines of his bicep, as her fingers lingered over the lines of his abs, as she looked up to him with a heartbroken smile and tear-stained cheeks, he knew the thoughts in his head, after Sasuke puffed away rung true.

 _"I'm the one who should be sorry."_

And he was.

He was sorry.

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 **fin.**

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 _an –_ the ideas just kept coming. may add more eventually. i also wanted to write angst and smut (wrote this spur of the moment a few hours ago). thoughts?


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